


Into the Black

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jensen, Comeplay, M/M, Space AU, Toppy!boys, dragon traits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 18 years aboard a spaceship that he calls home, Jared’s sure of three things: candy should be hoarded, breathing takes effort, and the love of his life Jensen Ackles doesn’t like him. These simple facts of life don’t seem to change, even after Jared finds out he’s Jensen’s mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Black

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Space AU, humans with dragon traits, mates, toppy!boys, bottom!Jensen, angst, angry sex, masturbation, blow jobs, anal sex (barebacking), come play
> 
> Disclaimer: I claim only, and all of the mistakes.
> 
> A/N: Written as a pinch-hit for [](http://spn-j2-xmas.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_j2_xmas**](http://spn-j2-xmas.livejournal.com/) for [](http://keep-waking-up.livejournal.com/profile)[**keep_waking_up**](http://keep-waking-up.livejournal.com/). I started with your prompt animal traits and then took it to the far left field (But tried to incorporate a lot of your likes)--hope you enjoy, and I wish you a very merry holiday season, hun. Also, enough thanks cannot be given to [](http://linvro21.livejournal.com/profile)[**linvro21**](http://linvro21.livejournal.com/) who held my hand when this story was a baby, and then graciously edited it after it grew up. Title taken from Neil Young.

Jared was born in the vast expanse of the final frontier, aboard the _Draconis Maximus_ , and the harshness that comes with breathing rates high on his list of universal truths. As far as absolute facts go, it places right before the knowledge that candy should be hoarded whenever possible, and directly after the unfortunate realization that the love of his life, Jensen Ackles, doesn’t particularly like him.

Jensen’s a bit older than Jared; he’s got twenty-three to Jared’s eighteen years. The elders on the ship, those who remember leaving their home world for the stars, might consider him young, but Jensen’s still the best damn fighter pilot anyone’s ever seen.

Jensen spends most of his time outside of the general view, training his elite hand-picked team or discussing tactics and navigation with Commander Morgan. The only reason Jared sees him on a regular basis is because Jensen’s forced to teach flight classes to those who qualify. Jared happens to meet the criteria—mainly because unlike the majority of those onboard, he’s got excellent sight.

Jared prefers using his sharp eyes to admire Jensen over flying a jet. Sometimes it gets him into trouble.

\--

At precisely seven thirty-five military time, Jensen’s already in his fighter-gear; the other pilots have long since dropped “Jensen” in favor of referring to him by his code-name ‘Arach-1’.

“Romeo-3,” Jensen’s voice echoes through the hanger as Jared enters. “You should have been here five minutes ago. You owe me three laps after we’re finished training.”

Jared forces his attention away from staring at the green and copper scales that peek out from underneath Jensen’s standard issue jump suit long enough to manage a “Yes, sir,” in response. His breath materializes in front of him. Space is consistently cold, just like Jensen.

Arach-1 spends a moment glaring at Jared, most likely assessing his sincerity, before turning around and addressing the team. “Alright everyone, listen up. We’re running drills for the next two hours today, so if you need to get a drink or use the bathroom, you’d better do it now.”

He turns around and heads towards his jet before looking straight at Jared and adding, “And Romeo-3, try not to purposefully crash into an asteroid, today. We can’t spare another ship.”

\--

Jared feels that his interaction with Arach-1 during their morning flight starts off on a relatively good note. It’s not until an hour into the flight that he hears “Left, Romeo-3, I repeat-- _Left_.”

“Copy, that Arach-1.” Jared turns his craft further.

“Damnit, Romeo-3, your _other left_ ,” floats angrily over the radio.

Jared might not have the best sense of direction.

By the end of the run, however, Arach-1’s practically screaming into Jared’s earpiece, “If you don’t stop incessantly chewing your gum right now, Romeo-3, so help me gods, I will shove it so far down your throat when we land that you won’t be able to use those sad excuses you call vocal cords for a week.”

Jared recently discovered that he has unlimited access to exactly one sweet item on board, and it happens to be bubble gum. It also appears that a most likely un-caffeinated Arach-1 is not a huge fan of his newly acquired chewing passion.

Jared manages to skate through the rest of the morning unnoticed, even when running penalty laps, until he’s ready to leave. Then Jensen’s in front of him, with a look of disgust plastered across his face. Jensen raises his eyebrows condescendingly as he says, “You can’t leave her like that Romeo-3, she’s not just a jet, she’s a _treasure._ ”

Jared’s tuning out Jensen’s diatribe because he’s stuck deciding which shade Arach-1’s eyes embody better today: emerald or forest green. As punishment for not responding immediately, Jensen decides that Jared needs to spend a few extra hours tuning up the engines on the fighter jets.

\--

When Jared arrives at the mess hall later, covered with streaks of black grease, his eyes find Jensen, who’s got his jumper unzipped a few inches lower than usual.

Jensen walks passed Jared with a sharp “Out of the way, Padalecki,” but Jared’s too busy staring at the unveiled coils of copper scales to move. His shoulders graze Jared’s, and it sends a spark of lust through his core, and suddenly he’s no longer hungry. Jared can’t wait to get back to his bunk.

\--

A steady beeping in his right ear followed by the automatic brightening of lights throughout the ship awakens Jared. When he peeks his head out from underneath the comforter, his mouth simultaneously opens in a wide yawn as he reaches over to push the snooze button.

When the clock starts up again, it reiterates what he already knows from the luminous glow of his room; it’s now six-thirty five in the morning, and he has to be present for flight class in under an hour. He can spare a few extra minutes most days; Jared’s lucky enough that his quarters are on the same side of the ship as the hangar. He doesn’t want to run extra laps for Arach-1 today.

He snuggles a little deeper into the mattress, giving an absent minded roll of his hips until he feels his morning wood slide against the sheets with just the right amount of friction.  
Jared thinks half-heartedly that while in most situations getting off quickly is considered a faux-pas, he’s taking it for a win this morning. He grinds his cock down a few more times, enjoying the warmth and pressure of his body against the bed, and wishes he was rubbing himself off against Jensen instead.

Images of green and copper scales lining broad shoulders that emphasize a pair of bright green eyes and a thick cock come to the forefront of Jared’s thoughts. He’s never caught a glimpse of Jensen’s dick in person, not even in the locker room after a flight, but he can imagine it’s perfect, just like the rest of Jensen.

Jared hasn’t changed into his fully grown dragon-accented form yet, but he’s seen textbook pictures of the secondary-sex characteristics after the hormones kick in. They exhibit considerably more bumps and grooves than his still human looking genitalia.

He wonders how the weight of Jensen’s dick would feel in his hand and how the protruding ridges of flesh might react to his tongue. In Jared’s mind Jensen’s hands glow, lending pleasant warmth to his face as his would-be mate spills down his throat. He pushes his own cock forward a few more times and comes into his briefs to the mental image of Jensen cupping his face and looking softly into his eyes, like he’s never done in reality.

He gets out of bed, muttering to himself, “Keep dreaming, Jared. That’s about as likely to happen as finding a habitable planet before you turn fifty.”

A few minutes later, Jared stumbles his way into the bathroom and enters his private code to activate the shower. The water’s timed to shut off after three minutes. He savors the meager time provided while the warm spray of water hits his back. Take away Jensen and gum, and his morning shower would headline every day.

He should feel more relaxed, but instead his body aches and tingles in an unfamiliar way. He inspects his arms thoroughly, and uses the mirror to check his back for any scales. He’s met with a slightly darkened tone of peach colored skin and hair follicles. Still, he can feel it in his bones. Even if he doesn’t pop his scales today, it’ll be soon.

Jared picks up his light grey jumpsuit and jacket from where they lie in a crumpled heap on the floor. He stuffs a few bites of synthetic oatmeal into his mouth as his mom asks, “Jared, honey, are you alright? You look a bit flushed this morning.”

“I’m fine, mom,” Jared says through mouthfuls of mush, spitting out the shriveled pieces called raisins. Jared’s never had a real one, but he seriously hopes that someone programmed the synthesizer wrong back when the _Draconis_ left in search of a more tolerant planet.

“Gotta run though, so you don’t get another delightfully annoyed call from Arach-1 about me being late.” His mom laughs, and shoves him out the door, into the dimly lit corridor.

He’s about halfway to the hanger when an unexpected wave of heat surges through him, turning his hands and face bright red with blood. He strips his jacket off and plasters himself against the ship’s metal siding, letting the cold material soothe his overheated skin. Once his temperature returns to normal, he stands up. Jared looks briefly at the slight imprints his hands made in the steel supports, and then grabs his backpack and jacket and continues the last few hundred feet to his destination.

He’s almost late, but right on time to watch Jensen move his toned body into the cockpit of his fighter jet. Then Jensen becomes ‘Arach-1’, and Jared’s left to grab his helmet and follow.

\--

Jared squirms in his seat. He’s waited eighteen long years for this moment. There’s still another few hours worth of formation drills left, but Jared isn’t sure he can make it much longer. His leg bounces up and down uncontrollably in the confined space, jittery with the thought that he’ll transform soon. Jared’s even less focused than normal and he can hear that reflected in Alpha-1’s vexed tone.

“Romeo-3, this is Arach-1, do you read?”

“This is Romeo-3, go ahead.”

“Please adjust your course by ninety degrees to the right, Romeo-3, you’re on a direct collision course for _Draconis._ ”

Shit. It’s the third time in underneath an hour that Jared’s had a near miss.

Jared thinks he’s got off easy until Jensen’s voice filters back through the radio saying, “I’m going to need you get your head out of your ass and concentrate, Romeo-3, do you think you can handle that for one goddam hour?”

“Course changed, Arach-1. Over and Out.”

Jared clicks off before he can hear Jensen’s dissatisfied grunt in the background. His skin’s starting to really itch, and he takes one hand off the steering wheel to scratch through layers of gloves and thick coveralls. When he finally reaches the juncture of his skin, he lets out a groan, because damn, that feels _good_.

Somewhere along the way, he must have accidentally turned on his radio, because amidst the feelings of pleasure shooting up his spine every time he rubs his arm he hears a distinctly familiar rough voice.

“Romeo-3, this is Arach-1. What are you doing inside your jet? I repeat, _What are you doing inside your jet_. Over.”

Jared lets out a gasp as white lights invade his vision, and he can’t seem to stop scratching. Except that now his other arm itches too, and he can’t legitimately rub both arms while still flying his jet. Then his body rebels, and he can’t control his breathing long enough get air into his lungs. He’s going to die out in space, with only Jensen’s voice in his ear. Jared supposes there are worse ways to go.

“Romeo-3, this is Arach-1, please respond,” comes over his radio, and there’s a note of concern in Jensen’s voice that Jared isn’t used to hearing.

Jared’s managed to switch his breather mask from the ‘normal pressure demand’ to the ‘continuous air flow setting’, and it’s allowing a little more oxygenated blood to reach his brain. Forming words seems within reach.

“Jensen... ” he responds feebly. Jared can’t fathom using code names when there’s this overwhelming heat that’s radiating from his heart, pumping a cocktail of hormones out to his extremities and back through his veins; restarting the cycle every few seconds.

Jensen responds immediately, “Stay with me, Romeo-3. I need you to adjust your bird to the left fifty degrees, and then I’m going to have the _Draconis_ lock in on your location and bring you back home. Do you read?”

“Over,” Jared whispers and groans again. The pleasure coursing through his arms earlier has morphed into a painful burning, and Jared wishes he could remember why he’d been so excited to pop scales. It’s seriously overrated. He expends his last bit of energy programming his ship to the correct coordinates, and then lets the steering wheel go as he’s pulled steadily forward into the hangar bay.

\--

When they open up his cockpit, Jared can’t tell whether it’s minutes or hours later. They have to pry him out though, because apparently he melted his jumpsuit into his jet. It’d probably be more embarrassing if the cool air didn’t feel so good on his overheated skin.

He’s still rubbing his arms roughly, and although it’s borderline excruciating, he can clearly see that with each pass, skin sloughs off, exposing a myriad of scales below. He smiles placidly; they’re a deep golden brown, and patterned in the exact same way as Jensen’s.

Then he feels Jensen kneeling over him, slapping his face repeatedly and telling him, “Stay with me, Jared.” Jared reaches out his hand for Jensen’s, and to his surprise, he takes it.

“Mates,” he says with a dimpled grin, right before he coughs up blood.

\--

Vague memories of intense heat, pain, and pleasure all churn through Jared’s mind when he awakens a few days later. He slowly muddles his way through days of visceral feelings while his conscious brain takes a couple more minutes to fully activate. When his sight comes back online, Jared notes that he’s lying on a bed in the infirmary, which isn’t surprising, considering his previous lack of mental awareness.

He looks down to see spirals of gold and brown tracing paths starting at his shoulder joint and down his right arm. A similar pattern adorns his left limb, and both meet at the center of his chest with only a few tendrils of shiny scales circling beneath his ribs, drawing his eye to what lies beneath the sheets.

He flexes his fingers, only to find another hand inside of his. His neurons can’t seem to stop firing now that they’ve started, and Jared knows that it’s Jensen before he follows the patterned green scales that reflect his own up to a strong jaw line. Jared smiles.

“Jensen...you’re...here?” he says in a slightly questioning tone.

Jensen clears his throat, and disentangles his hand. Jared feels the loss of Jensen traveling through him and seep out of his pores.

“Yeah, they said it’d help you out. Being mates and all,” he pauses to shrug, like finding one’s mate isn’t a life-changing event. “Plus, it got me out of teaching newbies and boring meetings for a few days.”

“Any chance you brought me bubble gum?” Jared asks in a hopeful voice.

Jensen glares at him and states, “I am not enabling your obsession with gum, Padalecki.”

A whining noise escapes Jared’s mouth. “But I like having in it my mouth, Jensen. It’s so sugary, and sweet, and it keeps me occupied for hours.”

Jensen’s staring at him with wide eyes, jaw clenched so hard that Jared’s worried he’s going to pop a scale.

“Jensen?”

“Uh...yeah...I just remembered, I have this meeting,” he’s stammering a little bit but continues on, “So. Anyways, it looks like you’re feeling better. You’re off the flight team now, of course--I can’t be distracted by having a mate who keeps trying to crash his jet repeatedly.”

Jared feels like he should fight that statement on principle, but he can’t find the energy right now. Jensen seems to realize that he’s rambling, because he stops himself with a simple, “Well, I suppose I’ll see you later, Jared,” and starts to walk out the door.

“Jensen?”

“Hmm?”

“Bubble gum,” Jared tries his best to look sad and dejected, “Please?”

“Absolutely not,” is the only response that he gets. Then Jensen is gone, and Jared’s left alone, confused, and bubble-gum-less on the hospital bed.

\--

Jensen doesn’t come back to see Jared. He knows that logically Jensen is busy with important ship business. It still hurts.

Jared’s walking back from his two-day stint in the infirmary after passing his physical, when a hand comes over his mouth and he’s shoved backwards until his spine’s flush against a viewing window. It’s one of the few on the _Draconis_ that looks out into the blackness dotted with distant galaxies and stars.

“You’re going to be quiet when I remove my hand.” It’s not a request.

He nods and looks down at vibrant green eyes and wine-stained lips. Jensen’s been drinking. That never turns out well.

“I didn’t want this you know?” He says. It’s clearly a rhetorical question, because when Jared’s mouth opens, Jensen presses his thumb into the hollow of Jared’s neck, effectively muting him.

“Shhh.” Jensen holds a finger up to Jared’s lips. It’s softer than he expected, and he really wants to poke his tongue out and taste it. Jared would also like to keep his tongue. “It’s my turn to talk tonight,” Jensen continues.

“Unlike most kids, I didn’t grow up with dreams of being in command. I definitely didn’t want to teach. I just drew the unlucky card of being able to fly a jet well, and then it became all responsibility and no choices, one-hundred percent of the time,” Jensen states bitterly.

“After that, I prayed to whoever’s out there that I would never get a mate. At least then I’d have one simple choice left in my life: I could decide whom I wanted to fuck.” Jensen laughs. “Clearly there ain’t anyone listening. Or maybe they are, and they just got it out for me, bad.”

“Anyways, the point is, don’t fucking expect synth flowers, or my prized possessions to show up at your quarters. I didn’t want this, I still don’t… but I can’t seem to stay away either,” Jensen rubs the back of neck briefly.

Jensen puts his arms on either side of Jared’s head and smiles for the first time. He’s showing all his teeth, looking downright dangerous, and Jared can’t help but try to mold himself deeper into the glass behind him.

“I like you better when you’re quiet, Padalecki,” Jensen states softly, their lips almost touching.

“ _Jared,_ ” he ventures saying.

“Jared,” Jensen echoes his statement.

He thinks that Jensen’s going to kiss him, but when he closes his eyes and leans forward he’s met with cool air. Then there’s a warm mouth on his cock and his eyes spring back open. Jensen’s sucking at him through the cotton scrub pants he’d put on in the infirmary. Jared didn’t know he could get hard this fast.

Jensen slides the elastic waistband of Jared’s pants down to his thighs and then holds his newly developed dick in one hand as he licks each bump.

“Jensen,” he squeals as his mate flicks his tongue over the vein on the underside, enjoying the feel of it rolling with every swipe.

Jensen pops off his dick for long enough to say, “Quiet, Jared, otherwise I’m gonna have to leave you like this.”

Jared doesn’t verbally respond but pumps his hips forward hard enough that his cock slaps quietly against Jensen’s face. Jensen takes the not-so-subtle hint and dives back down, licking into his slit and playing with all the sensitive areas that Jared hasn’t yet had a chance to explore.

When Jensen reaches down to cup his heavy balls, Jared tries to warn him that he’s about to orgasm by attempting to push Jensen off his dick. Jared hasn’t come since the morning that he popped his scales, and with the way that Jensen’s sucking on his dick, there’s no way he’s going to last.

Jensen only takes him in deeper and moves his tongue a little faster with a slight twist as he gets to the head of Jared’s cock. Jared’s hips stutter, and his legs tense before he relaxes as his semen spurts into Jensen’s mouth. He pushes his cock gently into the mix of Jensen’s saliva and his come a few more times before pulling out completely.

Jared thinks it’s ironic that the first time that Jensen makes him see stars, his back’s turned towards the universe.

Jensen spits out his come onto the floor and the wipes the remainder from his lips with the back of his hand.

“I hope you’re happy, Jared,” he says as he gets off his knees, and walks down the hall without a backward glance.

\--

It takes Jared several moments to pull his pants back up and regroup. And then he’s pissed. He’s endured Jensen’s asshole comments and general dislike of his personality since he started flying. Jared can understand that. He’ll be damned though if he’s going to let Jensen tell him he doesn’t want him, follow through with the best blow job of his life, and then walk away. Fuck that.

By the time he catches up, Jensen’s opening the door to his private room. He grabs Jensen by the back of his jumpsuit and shoves him over the threshold, closing the metal door with a resounding clang.

“We need to talk, Jensen. Cause I don’t care if you’re the big and mighty ‘Arach-1’. We’re mates now, and I won’t stand for you just walking away, whenever you feel like it.”

Jensen raises his eyebrows and sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it, Romeo-3? Keep chasing me down so we can _talk_ about it? Maybe I don’t want to talk.”

Jared gapes. He should have thought about what to say before chasing Jensen down. Luckily for his mind, his new hormones seem to have an idea of how to deal with Jensen. One that doesn’t involve excessive amounts of talking.

“On the bed, now,” Jared states.

When Jensen doesn’t move Jared pushes him backwards until Jensen’s knees buckle when they meet the edge of the bed. He takes a moment to pull down the zipper of Jensen’s coveralls, exposing Jensen’s scales to the air. They shine dully under the cold, fluorescent light. Jared wants to see his spit adding an extra sheen to Jensen’s exterior, but his mate’s looking at him like he’s sure Jared lacks the capacity to follow through.

Jared manhandles him up the bed while stripping Jensen out of his single article of clothing, and then leans down to kiss him. He almost succeeds.

“You know I’d be a lot warmer if you didn’t have clothes on, Jared,” Jensen says, practically into his mouth, “Did you even pass thermodynamics?”

Jared growls, but shimmies out of his pants and pulls his shirt over his head. He lines up his cock with Jensen’s and takes vindictive pride in the fact that his dick has slightly more girth and length than his mate’s.

“A little on the small side, Jensen? Could it be you’ve been compensating with all your attitude? Is it perhaps why you don’t change in the locker room with everyone else?” Jared hisses. He’s immediately ashamed of his words, no matter how hard Jensen’s pushed him tonight.

"I’m sorry, Jensen, you’re perfect," he says softly. “Even better than I imagined.”

Jensen grabs him by his shoulders and flips them over until Jared’s lying underneath him.

“Don’t be sorry. I… like it, when you get mad. It kinda turns me on,” Jensen says breathily while grinding his cock into Jared’s. Jensen’s started to leak pre-come onto Jared’s dick.

“You’re so wet, Jensen. Love the feeling of you getting slick for me.”

“You ready, Jared?” Jensen asks a question to which Jared doesn’t know the answer. Jared’s a little dubious about acquiescing.

Jensen, however, takes his silence for a ‘Yes’, and lines Jared’s dick up with his hole and sinks down slowly.

Jared’s mesmerised by Jensen’s deep breathing as he takes Jared further into his body. Once he’s fully settled on Jared’s dick, he starts bouncing up and down, and Jared moves his hands to Jensen’s hips to help guide his movements. He smiles as he feels his hands heat up and start to glow as he touches Jensen. _His mate._

“You wanna feel something amazing, Jen?” Jared asks, trying out a nickname.

“Already. Full,” Jensen grunts. “Can’t. Take. Anything. Else.”

Jared laughs at Jensen’s answer, but brings a hand up to encase Jensen’s drooling cock. The light from his hand creates a halo around Jensen’s cock, and Jared thinks he could worship it forever.

He thrusts up hard, drawing an extended groan out of Jensen.

“You’re so pretty like this, Jen,” he says.

“Not pretty,” Jensen says tightly.

“Yes you are. You’re my pretty treasure,” Jared retorts. He decides he’s had enough of letting Jensen ride him, and turns them over. He pulls out for a moment to reposition them.

“You get your dick back in me, Padalecki, or so help me gods…” Jensen complains.

“You just keep threatening, Jensen, and see if it gets you fucked.”

Jensen wins though, because Jared places Jensen’s feet over his back and pushes back into his mate’s warm body. They both groan simultaneously.

Jared fucks his mate hard and fast. Jensen’s underneath him muttering something about seeing stars, when Jared decides he wants to watch Jensen come. He spits into his hand and rubs up the underside of Jensen’s cock with just his thumb, before jerking him off quickly. Jensen’s hips twitch and his ass clenches in ripples as he spills onto his green scales. The added pressure waves against his cock make Jared come into his mate’s ass seconds later. He pulls out slowly with a soft squelch of fluids. He can’t help but try and shove some of his come back into Jensen as it slowly trickles out.

“You’re disgusting,” Jensen says, as he bats Jared’s hand away from his ass. “Go get some towels before we both pass out.”

\--

After Jared’s convinced Jensen that he deserves ‘Big Spoon Rights’ after the emotional trauma Jensen’s put him through, Jared thinks about what Jensen said earlier. About wanting choices, freedom from responsibility, and a life of his own. Ideals that Jared’s always taken for granted.

“Jensen?” Jared asks quietly, not sure if Jensen’s asleep.

“Go to sleep, Jared.”

“If you didn’t want to fly jets, or to command pilots, what did you want to be when you grew up? Besides be Juliet to my Romeo, of course.”

He receives an expected elbow in the ribs followed by “I, uhm... actually I wanted to be a librarian.”

“Huh.” Jared’s not completely convinced that Jensen’s telling him the truth. He can wait though. “You know I’ll still love you even if you don’t want to fly anymore,” Jared says in response.

When Jensen doesn’t reply, he pulls him in closer and lightly runs his fingers over Jensen’s scales until they’re both fast asleep.

In the morning when he wakes up, Jensen’s gone, but there’s a small stash of bubble gum in his place complete with a cursive handwritten note: _“To keep your mouth entertained until I come back.”_


End file.
